


FLOWERS

by iamkathastrophe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x13 coda, 13x13 spoilers, Angst, Comfort, Confession, Crush, Feelings, Flowers, Hidden Feelings, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Metaphore, Pain, Sabriel - Freeform, flower metaphore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 09:06:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamkathastrophe/pseuds/iamkathastrophe
Summary: Sam's mind is a garden where each person he cares about has a different colour of a flower. He doesn't know what to do when one day, flowers coloured like eyes of one certain angel begin to blossom.You can find me on https://www.tumblr.com/blog/iamkathastrophe





	FLOWERS

Have you ever had this one, little secret you have never really told anyone about? At first,  it didn’t even seem important enough to speak up about, or maybe It struck you as stupid, or trivial, or temporary. But before you even knew it, the thought began to appear in your mind more and more often, to the point there was hardly any place for other thoughts to be. Come to think of it, it was like that one thing, you know which, it planted a seed in the garden that your mind is, and every time you stumbled across it, it only grew more and  blossomed, and before  you knew it, the entire garden was blooming with only one kind of flowers. 

Suddenly there was not a single thing you were able to do without your thoughts running away to those unusual flowers growing inside your head, the ones that weren’t supposed to even be there. That’s stupid, isn’t it? It’s not a big thing, outside it might have look like just one single flower growing in the middle of a huge field, but in your head, it’s been growing and spreading and now wherever you look,  there are those strange little, golden flowers looking up at you.

They were in every cup of your coffee, and they covered the grass on your morning runs. They were hiding in between the piles of your clothes, and randomly popping up between the keys of your laptop, as if yearning for  attention. You found them in between pages of the books you read, on the sink where you brushed your teeth even inside your wallet. They grew even among the pink and blue clouds of your sleep.

If you’ve ever had this one little secret you have never really told anyone about; something so small and trivial it didn’t seem important but it soon, very soon, became so much more, you know exactly how Sam Winchester felt when he met the archangel Gabriel.

 

On the outside, it wasn’t much. You met once, twice, thrice… and it’s had never been under pleasant circumstances.  It’s always been in a dangerous situation and it wasn’t always that it’s seemed that Gabriel and you were even on the same side. Most of the time, it was just in this vague, grey area where you’re not entirely sure of anything at all. But that was enough for the garden to overgrow with little golden flowers in your head.

Nothing more than a quirk of thin lips, the warm sound of cocky laughter and the shine in squinching eyes and the seed was planted in your head. One seed that soon became stronger than any else.

Of course, it’s not like you just agreed to it, you saw the golden flowers growing in between the red and blue and decided to keep it here. Oh, no, even when you weren’t entirely sure what was happening, you didn’t want the golden flowers there. As soon as you saw the first one, you ripped it out of the ground and threw it away, knowing that it would bring nothing good into either your life, or your garden. What was your surprise when the next day, and the day after it, and even day afterwards you saw the flowers back, and growing. And only more were to come.

You knew you couldn’t stop them from reappearing, or from finding them in your socks, but that doesn’t mean you liked them. No, of course not. You hated them at first, you hated how they seemed to pop up from nowhere in the weirdest moments, like when that one time you walked past a box of doughnuts in the supermarket.Before you knew it, that strange flower was peeking out of your sleeve. You ripped it out and crushed in your fist, and your mood was ruined for the rest of the day.

As the time passed by, you learned to actually appreciate them, and the more you thought about them, the more of them grew in your garden and around you. Soon enough, you actually grew fond of their warm tint and rich colour, you liked the way the soft petals felt against your skin,  how sweet their scent was. The world actually looked better with those specks of gold in them. You loved them, you really loved those little golden thoughts that weren’t even supposed to be here.

And then he was gone.

You weren’t sure of it in the first seconds, you  _ hoped _ you were wrong but then it happened. The one little flower you always had growing inside your sleeve turned black, all the gold and warmth sucked out of it. You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe it so,  _ so  _ much but just like there was nothing you could do about the flowers blossoming, you could do nothing about the life being taken away from it.  And Sstanding at the edge of your golden-filled garden, watching it turn black more and more as the realization hit, seeing how your little source of happiness and good thoughts die and fade away before your own eyes... It was cruel, but it wasn’t the worst thing.

No, the worst thing was something else. Just having your favourite flowers, and comprehending the meaning of it, die in front of you would had been a horrible experience on its own. Without a doubt, it would be enough to kill many, to turn their gardens, and thus their minds and souls, into ashen-covered infertile ground unable to hold even the smallest flower. That’s not it. It’s heart-wrenching but that’s not it. That was  not what hurt the most. 

You wanted to pick out the most beautiful golden flowers and mix them with your own, green ones, and give him in a bouquet. 

Days following his death were possibly one of the worst periods in your life. Not only because your entire garden burned down, not because you would never hand him the golden-green bouquet with a red ribbon, not because there have been times before when Dean’s red and Castiel’s light blue flowers have once died too so technically, you’ve been worse before. 

Darkened flowers were bad on their own, but having to keep them in only made everything so much more difficult. Frankly, it was easier to carry around the burned remains of red and light blue flowers after Dean and Castiel were caught in the crossfire. You felt like you had the right to grieve; like it was your responsibility to show the world that you have been hurt and that someone important and close to your heart was unfairly taken away from you. With Gabriel gone, it was different. After all, nobody knew that the golden flowers used to cover nearly the whole surface of your garden. They thought it’s only a golden spot in a sea of colours.

But you were a strong and brave little soldier, so you never let that show. You’ve never let anyone see that your garden turned black, you’ve never shown anything that you’ve lost something so important and, of course, you’ve  never shown anyone that you threw away your bocquet with the red ribbon. You hated the healthy green of your flowers against the dead petals and dry stalks. 

You carried away without a word, because that’s what you do when this one, little secret you had, one that soon, very soon, became so much more, die. 

As the years passed by, you learned to manage. It was a slow process of working on your garden without anyone having even  the slightest suspicion that something was off. It was your garden, and your mess, you thought, just a little golden speck, nothing worth bothering other people with, not now, not to them, not seeing how Dean’s garden usually filled with your green and Bobby’s dark blue flowers blossoms up with Castiel’s light blue. Dean thought you couldn’t see it, but you did. You just didn’t say a word.

You kept working on your garden, throwing away the burned and dead and black flowers, cleaning the soil after them in hope that one day, they will blossom with different kind of flowers, ones that will help you forget. You did, however, keep a small patch of those destroyed ones, even though you didn’t know why. Were you trying to punish yourself for being so stupid? Were you too sentimental to take away all of it? Or was it something else? Maybe it was your coping mechanism, your way of dealing with the silent mourning? Or maybe, just maybe, you hoped that one day they would spark up to life, just like Dean’s and Castiel’s did?

But only you know that, you were the one with this one little secret you had; one that soon, very soon became so much more, and then died leaving you with a burnt garden.

It’s been years and your garden regenerated, more flowers blossomed, more died, but over all there was enough for you to lose the small, black patch in the waves and waves of colours, it seemed like you forgot and you could breathe again, you left those events of your youth behind. Then that one, tiny and faint flower grew. It was so small and so fragile, you didn’t recognize it at first. The scent wasn’t nearly as strong and as sweet as it was carved into your memory, the petals were smaller and the colour… the colour was the most unrecognizable. 

You remembered intense and bright gold, the colour of the sun rays in the summer and the colour of liquid honey; and suddenly you had the colour of old and mate gold, one that a dusted piece of amber might have after being kept in a cave for way too long. They were more brown than gold now, all the shine and life that once you loved about it so dearly was gone. But you… you didn’t care. 

You’ve had this one little secret, one that seemed trivial but soon, very soon it became so much more and only caused you to suffer so much more after it all died, but now you’ve got a second chance.

Delicate and darkened and weak but you don’t care. You don’t care that those little things, the ones that you’ve kept away from everyone are now spilling from everywhere, that the fill up your garden again and, yes, they can see that it’s not just one moment, not just one flower; they can see that it’s an entire flood bursting out. You find them in your pockets and in your food, they are growing out of everything you touch and even fall out of your hair.

But you don’t care about it anymore, do you? This isn’t your little secret anymore. I can see you’re making a bouquet with green and faint, little brown flowers.


End file.
